Gregory and the Hawk Moenie and Kitchi. More of the kooky chick folk. See Cocorosie, Rio en Medio, Joanna Newsom, etc...this is at turns more organic then the first references and less space is the place than the latter. i shall dub it forest twee. What is the dichotomy represented by forest twee versus regular twee? No idea, perhaps her heart is excised from her chest planted deep in the forest soil, surrounded by symbiotic mychorrizae it sprouts fine root hairs, wings, norishes the trees in a folk minded communal spirit of arbor minded souls. Trees have soul. The inner lives of trees are rich. The chemical essences transferred among the xylem and phloem to symbiotes deep within the earth where deepest tap roots migrate to escape the din of forest serenity. Or so we would imagine. Song two. More acoustic guitar. Forest twee does not permit electronic guitars. Forest twee allows only acoustic guitars, mandolins, bouzoukis, banjos, hammer dulcimers, harpschords and semi-scurrilous attempts at childhood regression therapy masquerading as vocals. I quite like this. It's throughly mediocre but there is an atmosphere of forgetfulness, a drifting into the ether filled anxiety to casually wash away the sanity of the everyday world. Doolally! Third song. In moments there is Joy and Rollick. Nice. This is one person. A female. She chose the name because she didn't want to be confused with Greg Kihn or Greg Louganis or Gregor Mendel. Oh, someone turned on the biodiesel generator, electricity rings throughout the forest. Shake the poplars, loose no strange fruit, we are overcome and assuaged of our guilt. Peel the grey leaves and bark and bark, blasphemer. Fourth song. Softer, suffer, it is Lisa Loeb. What happened to Lisa's reality dating show? I rather enjoyed it. It was preposterously contrived but she was smart and real and not glamourous or cut-out. Lisa Loeb wrote songs on her show and they were dreadfully mediocre and it wa endearing but If you are considering a document for your songwriting escapade it should be to capture a marvelous song. I don't know Gregory and the Hawk's real name. I imagine it is not Lisa Loeb. Or Leopold and Loeb. More electricity, oh the alacrity! I should be in bed. I promised myself earlier today to treat myself to an early evening beneath the sheets but I have been reading and now I am writing. This song is chirpy. Duly twee. Lacewings dancing in fairy rings without fairy wings. I just read a clever parody on the addiction to bailouts. Santa Claus is on Capitol Hill requesting a bailout. It makes perfect sense. Some sanity is in mind for the auto companies, an orderly bankruptcy rather than Barney Frank and Nancy Pelosi running the auto companies into the ground. The problem as I see it is that there are not paying customers in auto showrooms Nancy wants them to build electric cars. There were something like 156 electric cars sold last year. Unless the government was planning to use its coercive power by force of monopoly to force Americans to buy electrics(not entirely unreasonable under current leadership) then I am not sure how Nancy was going to save the UAW. We could put everyone in the job bank. Next song here, Wild Wet, splashes of cymbals, piano, squealie girl vocals. So Linda whomever. Nice coda. Very "world class rock". That is the name one local station has adopted for itself. World class rock encompasses Matchbox 20, John Prine and Big Head Todd but not .38 Special. Madness. In the forest all records sound like this. The wind through the trees is channeled through reeds and knobs and tangles and boughs and it ends up sounding like this concoction of helium, sports bras and herbal shampoo. This is on Fat Cat. I think. They discovered them by accident. Not in a forest. In a jungle. The urban jungle. Not in a blackboard jungle. Where was Glenn Ford and Rita Hayworth. Gilda! Harry Cohn is not forest twee. Rita Hayworth is forest twee but only in You Were Never Lovelier. Glenn Ford is not forest twee. This song has elements of Pram in it if they were tethered and earthbound and sedate. Pram is forest twee. All of the aardvarks and antelopes are fans. Ironing boards are for ironing. Some menace introduced with some distorto electric guitars and repetition. Listen for th Faith Healers groove cut thinly. Sorta. Fat Cat is one of the heirs to Too Pure. But they release records from kids from Clinton Township. Mistake. Next song. Acoustic strums in a forest clearing blanketed with stars, traditional rock band set-up, very long extension cords into the forest. A bit of country twang, a bit Juliana Hatfield, a bit silly. Why is this on Fat Cat. Are they not meant to be cutting edge? This isn't. Horns. It's Lisa Loeb backed by Our Brother the Native. It's not great. It's Ghost. I was listening to the radio and they have an excerpt of Joebama on the radio saying he would put his Ipod up against anybody's. He knows his music. He boasts. The guy is full of himself. Apparently he thinks of his self in the third person as some person out of literature. Hubris is not an admirable quality in a leader. Will he listen to his "dream team" or not. Kenneth Chu should be tuned out for a start. And Ken Salazar's cowboy hat. Bill Ritter must be overjoyed. Senate seats can buy a lot of electric cars for momma. Caroline Kennedy can move to Colorado. Next song. Superlegend, a very Kanye song title. Not very Kanye. I'd imagine that Kanye West is on Joebame's Ipod, right alongside Walter Reuther reading Thaddeus Kosciusko's unauthorised biography. He's a cad. There was the invented fad on New York subways of Ipod battles where allegedly you were meant to approach strangers with earbuds and challenge them to an Ipod war to se who wa listening to more happening tunes. I am listening to the new Moto Boy EP at the moment, ha, I lie, I wish, it's lovely, gorgeous, but I am stuck in a forest eeling desperately untwee. That song featured distorted voice, singing from outside a phone booth voice. Blah. Next one. More of a Sandra bell meets Thrill Jockey feel to current events. Blah. Being forest twee does not make for an interesting album. This record should have been 7 songs shorter. An EP would have been a treat. An album is a bit of a chore. The chorus here is nice, get rid of the movements that surround it. Pruning is key to good forest management. And Mountain Pine Bark beetles and the ents woudl help as well, if you can get some of these and add them to your record it is a blessing. And good hair. My hair is very long for my hair. It is getting more difficult to justify the unkempt appearance that I am sporting. My Hair is as tired as the rest of me. Next year my new resolution is to have untired hair and to listen to Gregory and the Hawk as little as possible. Hurrah. There is still one song to go. If I want a forest pixie I will stick to Joanna Newsom. Last song. It's like the last few chapters of Kavalier and Clay, tired suburban ennui, some clever moments but still glasses of tepid distilled water with dancing protozoa searching for a home deep in the wooded expanse.